


Till the End of the Path

by TheDarkMetalLady



Series: At the Edge of the World [1]
Category: Gloryhammer (Band)
Genre: Action, Adventure, Based loosely on The Witcher, Gen, In a way, Post-Apocalypse, during Terrorvortex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:35:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22162648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkMetalLady/pseuds/TheDarkMetalLady
Summary: When Dundee fell and the Dark Sorcerer took control of the kingdom, little flashes of resistance still appeared in the countryside from those able to fight. Despite their noble goal, they were not always welcomed by the locals.
Series: At the Edge of the World [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1595275
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	Till the End of the Path

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own the Gloryhammer characters. Please note that this story is about the _characters represented by the band_ and **not** about the band members themselves.

_ Melgarve Pass Inn _ __  
_ Kingdom of Fife, Scotland _ _  
_ __ 1st of First Frost, 992

It was in the hour after sunset that a lone cloaked traveller on unicornback approached the Melgarve Pass Inn. They wore a long cloak with a hood, hiding any identifiable symbols, as most did when traveling the roads nowadays, if they travelled at all. 

Ever since the Dark Sorcerer appeared and swiftly took over the entire kingdom before news of his arrival even reached most places, the roads had become filled with cursed creatures and deathknight partols. Travel was expressly forbidden, as were most things that made life worth living. Some places tried to hold out, refusing to fall to the Dark Sorcerer -- those were places that had large defensive walls and were well-stocked and well-armed. Out here in the countryside, they had nothing to resist with, and so they didn’t. A few brave souls made attempts to travel to check on their families, but they had not returned, and no one knew of their fates. No one was crazy enough to go look, either.

The innkeeper looked up when the front door opened, immediately suspicious of the cloaked figure who entered. The figure seemed to ignore this suspicious glare, just as it ignored the gazes of the other patrons, ones that mixed fear and hostility. They instead calmly approached the counter behind which the innkeeper stood. 

“Who are you?” The innkeeper demanded to know, eyeing the sword the figure carried on their back. It was well-crafted and looked wickedly sharp.

“A traveller,” the silhouette responded, their voice distinctly feminine but hardened with equal suspicion. “The sign on the front says you have open rooms.”

“We do,” the innkeeper confirmed cautiously.

“I seek to rent one,” the figure said.

“Like hell ye’ll be allowed to stay here!” One of the patrons yelled. 

The figure ignored this yell. They raised their head slightly, and the candlelight illuminated part of their face. It was a woman, one rather young but not untouched by battle. Her skin was distinctively human, however, lacking the sickly grey tone possessed by zombies and goblins.

“To whom is the room being rented?” The innkeeper asked after a moment, picking up his quill and opening his leger. 

“Alexandra.”

“Do you have a last name?”

“One that doesn’t matter anymore.”

Sensing that the figure wouldn’t answer any more questions, the innkeeper scribbled the name into the leger. “That’ll be five gold.”

“You can’t be serious!” yelled out one of the patrons. 

“Kick the witch out!” yelled another. 

The mysterious traveller named Alexandra reached under her cloak and took out a coin purse. She dropped it onto the counter. “Ten gold, if you may include a bath.”

“That can be arranged,” the innkeeper confirmed. “Would you like a meal as well?”

A few more gold coins were dropped onto the counter as a silent answer. The innkeeper nodded and went to the back room to cook something up. Supplies were incredibly scarce, but so was money, and refusing a customer who was willing to pay meant not having coins to pay off the exorbitant costs of food from the few traders that still wandered past. 

By the counter, the figure sat down on the barstool with a sigh, taking off her hood but keeping her cloak on. She knew she was damn lucky to have found an inn for the night where she wasn’t kicked out; she looked forward to sleeping in a real bed for the first time this week. 

She dropped another gold coin onto the counter when the innkeeper came out with a mug of warm drink. She wouldn’t care even if it tasted like dishwater; it was something warm, and she hadn’t been warm in a long time, not since she learned the hard way that campfires could very well be goblin magnets. Some warm food and a warm bath, too? Those were heavenly luxuries, ones she had perhaps taken for granted before this whole mess started. 

“Oi, bitch!” came a call from behind her. She did her best to ignore it, focusing on drinking her warm beverage. Alas, it was harder to ignore when one of the patrons stumbled over and sat down next to her, on her right. “You deaf on top of your unsightliness?”

She lowered her mug. “No, I just choose not to waste my energy listening to your pointless words.”

“Hey, girlie, you should really stop being mean, you know…” came the sing-song comment from a drunk patron that sat down on her other side. “You won’t wanna make us angry, because then you’d have problems…”

“Bugger off,” she said with the calm that came before the storm. 

“I think we’d rather not,” said the patron on her right. 

Then, suddenly, the patron on her left grabbed her cloak and ripped it off. “Hey!” she protested, grabbing it back, but the symbol on her clothing had already been revealed.

“She’s a deathknight bitch!” exclaimed the patron on the right. “She has the armor and everything!” 

At this point, the innkeeper came out from the back room with a sigh to check what all the ruckus was about. 

“No, I am not with the deathknights,” Alexandra said with a dangerous calm. “I had been affiliated with the knights before the Dark Sorcerer took over, but I had not been in Crail when he showed up, and thus I had not been corrupted into a deathknight.” Not having been in Crail was one of her biggest regrets. Maybe, if she had been there, she could have helped others escape. But, no matter; there was no point in considering the what-ifs. 

“What were you, during your time in Crail?” asked the innkeeper.

“A squire. I had been away from the fortress and visiting family friends when the Dark Sorcerer attacked.” A lie, but a necessary one. The scar on her arm was the sour price she had paid for telling the truth last time someone had asked her that question. After all, no one would believe that the well-known Ser Lexi, second in command to the Grandmaster of the Knights of Crail, had survived the attack on the Knights despite being a major target. (Much to her luck, no one connected the name Alexandra and Lexi MacCrail, either, which minimized how many lies she had to say.) 

One of the patrons tried to grab her again, but the innkeeper fixed them with a look. “Leave the lass alone,” he said, “or I won’t give any of the lot of you a free drink ever again.”

The patrons quickly dispersed as Lexi fixed her cape. Satisfied, the innkeeper went back to the back room to finish making food. 

The rest of the night went well enough for Lexi. She got warm food, washed off the grime that had gathered on her after three weeks of travel down backroads and trying to avoid patrols, and was even able to buy some clean rags and bandages. Then, she got to go to a room and lay down on a bed, and she was asleep within minutes.

Alas, she did not get to sleep in. 

No one did, in fact. A little bit before sunset, a man ran into the inn and raised the alarm.

“Goblins! Goblins are fast approaching, a whole lot of them!” 

Lexi was the first person in the inn out of bed, more than used to fast wake-ups in the face of emergency. She was in her armor and had her sword in hand within moments and headed downstairs. She ran past the person raising the alarm and looked outside, trying to gauge the size of the approaching threat. Behind her, people in pajamas and various states of undress came downstairs as well, all pale-faced and terrified. Lexi turned around and faced the innkeeper, sheathing her sword on her back once more. 

“Keep everyone inside. Barricade all the doors and windows,” she ordered. “No matter what happens, do not go out there unless I come back in here and give the all-clear signal.” With that, she took off outside and went to the small covering that served as a makeshift stable. 

“Hey Starfall,” she greeted her unicorn. (Well, e wasn’t actually her unicorn, but… she supposed that now e was.) “No rest for the weary, huh?” She gave the unicorn a small smile. “Ready to fight some more goblins?”

The unicorn neighed and allowed her to mount. Soon as Lexi was on, Starfall took off fast as eir legs could go, and they rode as one entity, headed straight for the goblins. No words or orders needed to be exchanged -- Starfall knew what to do. Soon as they were close enough and had the goblins’ full attention, Starfall took off to the side and away, and they led the goblins away from the inn. Then, once they were a safe distance away, Lexi hopped off the unicorn, rolling and taking out her blade. Starfall continued on circling around, distracting the goblins, and Lexi took on the task of slaughtering the bastards as they deserved. 

The sun was well on its way into the sky by the time Lexi finished her work. She returned to the inn, forcing open the door. Her return was met with hopeful whispers.

“The goblins are gone,” she announced, which earned her many cheers and thanks. She ignored those, however. “Farewell; I must head off.” 

With that, she turned and left, ignoring the confused and shocked silence that fell behind her. She mounted Starfall and was once more off on the roads. 

A slaughtered goblin patrol like this meant that the Dark Sorcerer would know where she’d been, how much progress she’d made, and which way she was headed. It had been a major risk, but necessary to save people -- after all, she had to make up for her failures in saving those who had mattered to her most. 

Reaching over to touch her blade’s handle (not her blade originally, but she supposed it was hers now too, just like Starfall was), she focused upon the vow she made when she had first fled into hiding. She would free and avenge her knights and her father -- at the very least, she would end their suffering, ensure that the Dark Sorcerer could not continue defiling them further by forcing his will upon them.

She was Ser Alexandra “Lexi” MacCrail, and she would fight until the end of the path.

**Author's Note:**

> This work was beta-read by [Lavender_Persimmon305](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavender_Persimmon305/pseuds/Lavender_Persimmon305) (Tumblr: [tellmeoflegends](https://tellmeoflegends.tumblr.com/)).


End file.
